


Devout Protector

by Yuni30



Series: Nymph Hugs [9]
Category: Ni no Kuni
Genre: Being Lost, Best Friends, Brotherly Love, Dedicated friend, Dependable Ally, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father Figures, Fear, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Male Friendship, Old Friends, Protective Swaine, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 13:54:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14137392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuni30/pseuds/Yuni30
Summary: When the young savior returns nearly a year later, he hopes to hold a friend to his promise.(This work can also be found as a drabble chapter for "Nymph Hugs" over on Fanfiction.net along with its sibling works.)





	Devout Protector

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Like A Brother](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/367086) by Wherever Girl. 



> So… Here’s the thing. If there’s anything that I love about the thief, it’s his steadfast dedication to his friends and family, even going so far as to correct his younger self on Marcassin’s behalf. Even the official website underplays this fact about the guy. 
> 
> In wanting to write more of this, I may have included some implied but justified violence in this one. Fair warning. 
> 
> Shout out to Malecxx for reviewing this on Archive of Our Own. Thank you for the encouraging words! 
> 
> Enjoy some brotherly antics, will ya? 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own the rights to my ideas. Real talk, this one’s inspired by two other fics besides [Wherever Girl](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2005234/Wherever-Girl)’s “[Like a Brother](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10378523/1/Like-A-Brother)”: “[Return of the Porcine Prince](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10791203/1/Return-of-the-Porcine-Prince)” by [Moonbird](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/1576308/) and “[The Makings of a Scoundrel](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11466562/1/The-Makings-of-a-Scoundrel)” by [DuckofIndeed](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/4716240/DuckofIndeed). Go and check them out.

A bright light shown in the palace halls and a young boy about fourteen stood in front of a pig-themed fountain. It had been nearly a year since they had saved the world… twice. To be honest, the young wizard missed the thrill of it all. Getting back to having a normal life was hard- everything was so mundane compared to what he'd been through.

 _"We'll go somewhere dangerous- for old time's sake,"_ he remembered a friend of his saying before he had tried to leave the first time. While his attempt was completely botched, the boy was going to hold that man to his promise.

He ran through the halls, the first stop being the young ruler of Hamelin's chambers. If anyone knew where to find the thief, it would be Marcassin. Oliver knocked on the doors to his majesty's inner sanctum.

The door cracked open to reveal a face the young hero didn't recognize- well at first. The man who had answered the door had tan skin and thick wavy side swept brown bangs covering the forehead of a long, filled out face with a rounded, but average clean-shaven chin.

"Um… Excuse me-," Oliver began, looking slightly up at the man. He had grown a couple of feet since his adventure. Who was he? Why was he in Marcassin's room?

"Wait, Oliver? Is that you," the stranger asked with a familiar voice, grinning with excitement. "You've certainly changed in a year."

"Huh," the wizard asked, taking a half step back, unsure of how this man knew him. He squinted, trying to place the identity. He looks kind of like… Oliver thought, looking into the other person's eyes. They looked tired, almost world-weary for such a well-kept individual.

He opened the door wider to reveal a lanky upright frame adorned with a red tunic, a dark green cape with a magenta stripe at the hem, a wide brown belt, a pair of dark blue pants, and a pair of brown buckled shoes. While neater than it once was, his brown curly hair still fluffed up at the ends, reaching shoulder length. "Oh, don't tell me that you've forgotten," he bitterly remarked while swaying his head back and forth, wounded at the lack of recognition. "It's not like I didn't help you lot save the world." The man leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed and shook his head.

"Swaine," Oliver asked, the gears in his head finally clicking into place.

The prince huffed, glaring at the boy. He couldn't be too mad. A lot happened over the year. For one thing, he had been eating fairly well. He almost didn't recognize Oliver, himself. The hero's boyish features were starting to give way to a young man's- that and he was wearing normal clothes from his world, the traveler's clothes being too small for him, obviously.

He finally shrugged and roped his old friend into a bear hug. "Come here, you!" He tossed the boy's red hair teasingly with one hand, the other gripping his back.

For once, the former thief didn't smell like dirt and motor oil, a smell that he had come to know the man by. It was almost alien. The wizard let out a small laugh when he pulled away, admiring how much Swaine had changed. Without the constant hunch, he seemed a whole foot taller and somehow even more proud than usual. "You look like a real prince! What happened," Oliver asked curiously.

"Well… I'm sort of co-ruler of Hamelin now. My brother doesn't know much about how machines work and let's just say he needs a fresh perspective on the state of the world sometimes." He ran a hand through his brown locks, chuckling. "How it all came to pass is a long story, really. I'll spare you the details," he acquitted, waving his right hand away.

The wizard nodded. He smiled proudly at the newfound royal. "That's really cool," he shouted. He paused, the smile fading a little. He ran his hand through his hair, looking at the floor of the hall. "So… I don't suppose you have any free time to go on an adventure, huh?"

Swaine pressed his left hand to his hip and looked up in thought. "Well…" He placed his right hand on his chin and for a moment, to Oliver, he looked like the thief he had traveled all over the world with. He glanced over at the wizard with a smirk. "I _do_ have to go into town and observe the state of things… I don't suppose it would hurt to have some company."

"But… You said we could go somewhere dangerous," the wizard pouted. He'd been to Hamelin several times over the course of their adventures. The place was as peaceful as could be by comparison to some of the wastelands.

The ruler chuckled wryly, shaking his head once more. "Only those who've never truly explored this kingdom would think it's completely safe," he stated almost sagely. "This place is as full of danger and thrills as Old Smokey or even Nevermore if you pry enough. Besides…" He placed a hand on the kid's shoulder. "You've always wanted to get a closer look at how the city works, haven't you?"

That confident rebellious look the formal prince had in his eye was as alive as ever. His looks and appearance may have changed, but underneath it all was the same underhanded, good-natured thief. Oliver finally accepted the man's invitation with a nod.

Swaine told his friend to wait there for a moment, casually mentioning changing into something less "high-class" as he put it. When he returned, he had dawned a familiar outfit- the old tattered clothes that had seen many a battle. His hair had been tossed about, even to the point of resembling his former self to some extent- only with a full face and a clean shave.

He returned to his slouch, his transformation into a beggar complete. Seeing a sense of eager recognition on his young friend's face, he smirked. "Was this who you were expecting to see," he asked coyly. He began to walk down the hall, only catching a nod from his scouting companion.

A guard was near the inner secret exit of the palace, so no one would catch on. When he saw the hero and the prince approach, he stood at attention. "Going out to check on the citizens, your liege," the guard asked, nodding out of respect. He looked at Oliver and raised an eyebrow.

"What is it," Swaine groaned, eyeing the guard.

"Won't he draw attention to you, Prince Gascon," the guard asked in a hushed whisper, leaning closer to his superior.

The prince shook his head. "I used to travel looking like this all the time with this kid. The only way anyone outside of these walls will ever know is if one of us squeals."

With that, the guard nodded and moved aside, watching the two begin to walk through the tunnel. "Do return safely, sir," he wished, only receiving a silent wave in return.

~*~*~

The mechanical city of Hamelin was monstrous. Oliver couldn't believe so many buildings could fit into one area. He made sure to follow Swaine closely, trusting the ruler's innate knowledge of the city.

"This place sure is big...," the boy observed as they sat on the steps of a building just next to one of the city's shopping district. They had decided to take a short break from all the walking and talking, the former thief explaining the mechanical aspects that constantly changed the city over time.

The man who sat nonchalantly on the step above him, his hand resting on his knee, nodded in response. "Yeah. You've got to be careful in a place like this. There are people who will do just about anything to get their way here. One of the curses of this blasted mechanical monster I call home," he warned. He looked at the shopping district and noted the type of wares they were selling. Shopping district three… the prince thought, remembering its primary source of income.

He nudged Oliver's shoulder. When he got his attention, he jabbed his right thumb over to the bustling businesses. "Looks like this one sells functioning models and machine parts. Maybe we could check it out."

"Neato," Oliver responded, getting up. Soon, the pair were entering the throng of customers and vendors alike. They kept a keen eye on each other for the most part, enthusing over various models and parts they saw- bonding over their mutual fascination with machinery.

Then… Oliver couldn't find the former thief. He had seemingly vanished. Perhaps he didn't hear him say they were leaving the area to check something else out. He began to panic, forgetting for a moment that he could use magic to travel to a safe location. And when he did… he remembered he had left his wand back at the palace. At least he thought he did. The boy couldn't remember in his frantic state, but he knew he didn't have it on him.

Mentally kicking himself, he ran and ran through the alleyways adjacent to the shopping area, tears of frustration fleeing his eyes. Where is he? He thought, hoping to see a glimpse of that old tattered green jacket. That was the most comforting thought at the moment. That's all he wanted to see.

Finally, tired of running, the boy sat on the ground of one of the many hallways of the mechanical metropolis, his head in his knees. At that point, he just wanted to go home. Sure, he was the hero of the entire world, but what good was he without his wand? There was the creature cage, but unless one of them had the nose of a bloodhound, there was no telling whether he'd get back to the palace at all…

At least I have something to keep me safe, he thought, looking up from his fetal position on the dusty metal ground.

Even as this small consolation began to comfort him, a hand slapped over his mouth, a cloth muffling his terrified scream. He was yanked up as his hands wrapped around an arm much larger than his own two.

"Well," a deep, sinister, and even slimy voice began, it's owner's breath foul smelling. "What do we have here? The savior of the world?"

Oliver struggled, trying to break free from the foul-smelling brute, but to no avail. He heard his captor hush him quietly. That alone made a shiver run up the wizard's spine. "Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you… yet," he greedily snarled. "I'm going to take you with me and keep you locked up… I bet the rulers of Hamelin- nay! The rulers of all the kingdoms would pay a hefty amount for your safe return."

He heard the fiend chuckle and breath into his ear sarcastically, "Oh great and powerful savior."

The wizard whimpered in fear. He couldn't focus. He couldn't clearly command his familiars to come out. He sensed the other arm of the brute rise, fist clenched, ready to knock him out with one blow.

A bright light blinded them both, suddenly. Oliver felt his captor release him as a gust of air brushed by. He scrambled away, but fell in his haste, facing the direction of his hostage taker. When the light cleared, the boy, to his joy, saw a familiar well worn, green jacket.

"S-Swaine," he called out, relieved to see the thief standing guard over him. He took in the sight further. His gun was drawn. He had Vemahl, the Aye-Aye Sir, out at his side, its tail twitching in anger and agitation. Blood dripped from the man's left fist.

"Oliver," Swaine asked in a calm rage. "Are you okay?" Even as he asked this, he only made eye contact with the musclebound, grime-covered criminal. He found it hard to accept that this type of ilk lived in the very city he ruled, despite his own past. Hero or no, Oliver was still just a kid. It made his stomach turn.

The wizard nodded as he rushed to his feet, regaining his focus once again. He began to call on his familiars.

A sleeve adorned arm halted him. "Allow me to take care of this," his friend protectively warned, staring down disgustedly the thug. There was no need for familiars for such a pathetic man. The emperor even withdrew the lemur at his feet, it's job done well.

The brute holding his busted jaw looked up at the disguised prince from his meager position. "Jusht who do you thrink you are," he asked angrily, though muffled from the damage. "This kid'sh bodyguard?!"

Swaine pressed his Highwayman's Handgun to the ruffian's head. "Listen here. You'll leave this kid alone from now on, got it?" He seemed to push the brute back with the threat of a gun. "If I ever see you lay your hands on him again, this gun will be the last thing you ever see." He paused. "Do I make myself clear," the former thief snarled coldly.

The thug, trembling at the threat on his life, turned around and ran off into the maze of alleyways, frantically escaping the lanky royal.

A sigh escaped the older man as he slowly lowered his gun. He turned to his young friend, frowning. "Y'know…," he began, shrugging.

"When I said this place was dangerous, I was hoping we'd get into trouble with some giant mechanical monster cooked up by Hamelin's engineering division. Not nearly get ourselves kidnapped," he quipped, holding his hands out almost openly, his right still loosely holding the gun.

Oliver gratefully looked up at the prince. "I- Swaine, I'm sorry- I didn't mean," he began to stammer, tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes. "I panicked- I should have stayed in the shopping district- I didn't have my wand," he continued, still shaken up by the whole ordeal.

After replacing his gun into the holster on his belt, Swaine held out the wand, Astra, to the boy. Rubbing the back of his head, the thief informed, "Yeah, you kind of dropped this. I turned around to get it, but you were gone when I returned."

"Huh?" Oliver looked dumbfounded at the wand, taking it. He shook his head, looking down. "I-I'm sorry… I should have been more careful." He began to sob, disappointed in himself, clutching Astra.

For a moment, Swaine looked away from the sight. He hated seeing the kid cry- even worse, he hated seeing him hurt. Finally, he pulled the boy into a comforting embrace. Dammit, I'd die for this kid… he realized, still attempting to sooth the distraught teen. "It's alright, Oliver…"

The wizard shook his head, rubbing against the man's chest occasionally. "I-it's not," he argued. "Y-you shouldn't h-have to save m-me," he continued. "I sh-should be stronger than this."

"Hey, kiddo," the former thief began, placing a hand on Oliver's head. "Listen, we all have our off days. No need to get your knickers in a twist about it." He grabbed the boy's shoulders and put himself at a distance but didn't let go. He smiled at his friend reassuringly. "Hey, look at me," Swaine gently coaxed.

The wizard, hesitantly, looked up, still shaking.

"I'm not going to let you down. Not ever. You're way too precious to turn a blind eye to," the former prince admitted, almost moved to tears himself. It was his turn to be hugged as Oliver wrapped his arms around him, wand in hand.

"Swaine," Oliver asked after a moment or two, having calmed down quite a bit.

"Hmm?"

"'Love you," the wizard admitted, gripping the man tighter.

A chuckle escaped the prince and he tossed the kid's hair fondly. "Heh. Love you, too, kid." He coughed, remembering that they were still in an alley. The thought of what people would think slipped into his head. "But we should probably get out of here," he suggested as he pulled away, turning his back to his friend. "We'll get some ice cream. My treat."

And so, they did, heading back to the palace afterward. For old times' sake, the two managed to persuade the guards to release a Porco Grosso tank into the main hall for them to fight- reliving the thrill of facing the porcine armament for the first time.

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back. Just want to say, no. I don’t “pair” Swaine and Oliver together. Sorry if you got that impression. It was something I worried about writing this one. 
> 
> I’ve always kind of put the thief in the role of dedicated older brother or even father figure, especially since Oliver doesn’t have a dad. In all honesty, Swaine is old enough to be the kid’s father when you meet him in Castaway Cove. He doesn’t look it, but he ain’t exactly a teen himself. A lot of people guess he’s in his early thirties, late twenties, too. If Oliver is 10 or in his tween years in the game, there you have it. 
> 
> Either way, after all the stuff they’ve been through, they’d have to have a pretty tight bond. 
> 
>  
> 
> **Edit: I fixed up the last bit a little. I hope the changes are welcome!**
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you enjoyed. Do review.


End file.
